CircusTaught
by chercherlecirque
Summary: Hermione is a lady, a runaway joining the Circus circa 1800-1900. An unknown danger is following her, and she must learn all she can from the circus-folk to defeat it. A/U DRAMIONE Summary sucks. Any suggestions welcome, a pure for-fun story.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I'M DOING THIS FOR FUN, NOT $$$.**

**Enjoy! This was a persistent little thing, written on a whim. **

* * *

She peered through the rain, blinking a few raindrops out of her eyes.

The tent stood on the crest of the next hill; it's bright yellow and red stripes still visible through sheets of water pouring from the heavens. A bright blue flag was attached to the top, fluttering madly in the storm. The small caravans clustered on one side of the tent almost rocked with the power of the gale. Lightening flashed, making the lurid colors of the circus stand out against the angry grey sky and swirling grass.

Her momentary trance ending, she shivered. The persistent pouring had already soaked through her stolen coat, and her normally curly hair was slicked against her head with water.

She hurried through the long grass, faster than a walk but slower than a run, mentally praying.

_Please, God. Please. Let them take me on. _

She jumped over the small stream of water that had collected between the hills, and began walking up the hill the tent was perched on top of. The weight of the knapsack on her back made her pant slightly, although the exercise made her feel less chilled. The stalks of grass began thinning, and soon she stood ankle deep in mud, looking at the encampment.

A few of the cheery caravans had spluttering lanterns attached by the door, and light shone through many of the curtained windows. None of the cabins were identifiable in any way, besides the colors they were painted, and she had no idea who resided where. She turned her head to look at the large circus tent. Perhaps, she mentally debated, someone would be there. It would certainly feel less intrusive.

Taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, she trotted to a small entrance flap on the side of the tent. Her numb fingers fumbled with the rope, and after a few seconds, she was able to pry it open. Runaway she was, she still had manners. She flicked the sludge off her shoes, and wrung out her dripping hair before pulling open the flap to allow herself inside.

The air was noticeably warmer, and she was able to re-tie the knot holding the door closed without much trouble. She turned around, hoping no one had seen her yet.

It was set up for a performance, the benches stood at attention around the circular ring. Posters bragging various achievements were attached to the undulating walls. It would've looked abandoned, were it not for the roaring fire in the middle the ring. Several people lounged around it, sitting or reclining. As far as she could tell, they weren't doing anything. It was decidedly odd, for them to all be sitting up around a fire in the early hours of the morning as a storm raged outside. Slowly, she approached them. The fire suddenly flashed purple, causing her to squeak in surprise and fall on her bottom.

Twenty eyes were suddenly trained on her as she picked herself off the floor.

"G-g-good evening. I'm sorry if I'm intruding on anything."

An ancient woman wrapped in dozens of scarves and scraps of fabric stood up from the pillow she had been sitting on. Beads rattled with this action, and she smiled a gap-toothed smile at the unexpected visitor.

"'Course not, dearie. We was just having a chat, is all. 'Sides, it's one hell of a storm brewing out there…as if he were the devil himself...poor trees, bending like that…" Her eyes refocused on the woman-child in front of her. "Can't fault you for wantin' to get some shelter." Her withered hand gestured for her to come closer. "Come closer. We won't bite."

She took a shy step forward, encouraged by the grandmotherly tone of voice the woman in front of her had. As she got closer to her, the woman grabbed her sleeve and tugged her closer to the fire and the people sitting around it.

"Harrino," she said, her voice booking no argument, "get the girlie a pillow, would you? And some blankets. If you're not too dirty from mucking about, you might even brew the poor chit a cup of tea."

A long, slender man with long and unruly hair stood up with reluctant elegance. He was dressed in nothing but a pair of loose pants and a white tank top. His feet were bare. Wildness and almost animalistic aggression radiated out of his every pore. Emerald green eyes flickered to her face, and she could tell, with absolute certainty, this man hated her. Another shiver coursed through her, this one originating in fear and not cold.

"Anything else, Ally?" he asked in a smooth rumble.

Ally, the woman in front of her, appeared unperturbed by his obvious hatred. "No. But," she suddenly scowled, "don't brew her that nasty African bollocks you gave _him._ Not if you don't want to end up like one of your pests."

She couldn't be certain, but she thought she saw a flicker of amusement pass through his face before he turned around a loped off. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw the fire flash green. _Stop making things up!_

Ally tsked, her hands patting down the sides of her arms and over her wet coat. "We need to get you out of this getup, girlie," she said, even as her teeth chattered. She was slightly surprised that the circus crone didn't remark at all on her indecent male wardrobe. _Stop it, Hermione. You're at a circus, not a party of the ton._

"Lavender, come with me, will you?" Her sleeve was once again being tugged by Ally, toward the opposite end of the tent and away from the warmth of the fire. She lamented slightly at the loss.

The exotic girl with mocha-colored skin and blonde hair who had been embroidering stood up. Her expression was serene, her blue eyes and high cheek bones beautifully illuminated in the light of the fire.

"D'you want me to find something for her to wear, Ally?" she said to the old woman with obvious affection. Her eyes flitted toward Hermione, glowing with mild curiosity as she followed them across the tent. She noticed the girl was dressed in a fashionable empire waisted gown, the same color as her name, her wavy hair bound up in a ribbon that color as well.

"Of course. You screamed like a bloody banshee last time I went through your stash. Not gonna let you throw a tantrum like that again. Terrible, terrible…"

Hermione cringed at the easy profanity that seemed to constantly roll out of the elderly woman, as Lavender rolled her eyes.

"Went through is not the appropriate term, I think. Rampaged would fit much better."

Ally huffed. "I was in a hurry. And since you haven't got a understandable organization system-" They stopped in front of a cloth that covered an entrance. A dress-maker's dummy, a pair of scissors and a measuring tape were embroidered it, clearly marking this as the domain of Lavender the seamstress.

"Lavender, why don't you go in first. Get everythin' ready, won't you?" Ally said with a pleasant manner. Lavander gave a stiff nod, marching into the room. A few seconds later, the curtains rippled slightly and Hermione would've sworn she heard a loud 'pop!'.

"Come along, dearie. Musn't dilly-dally, or you'll catch a nasty chill tomorrow," Ally said as she almost dragged her through the lavender-covered doorway.

The room was huge. Racks of clothing stretched as far as the eye could see, and it was high-ceilinged, the clothes two sets on top of each other. A ladder on a rail went around the room, much like the libraries she knew to reach the higher set of clothes. Hermione was so astounded by the room's sheer magnitude, that she didn't question how circus folk could afford the clothes, or where the stored all of these things as they traveled. She could hear herself gasp quietly as she took in the gigantic room.

"This is amazing…"

Lavender turned to her, a small smile gracing her features. "Thank you. Now," she said, turning business like, "What shall we get you to wear?" Instead of looking at her, Hermione noticed, she looked over her shoulder at the considerably shorter Ally. The gypsy-like woman tapped her chin with a gnarled finger thoughtfully.

"One of those delicious flannel nightgowns, with a nice warm overcoat. Don't forget underthings, and some stockings as well, don't you think?"

Lavender nodded, and walked down one of the rows between the racks of clothing, her hair dancing behind her till she was out of sight.

Hermione turned to Ally. "How on earth is she ever going to find anything?"

Ally shrugged, "Don't be asking me, dearie," she said, her blue eyes twinkling. "The girl is magic."

Not a minute later, Lavender walked with brisk stride out of tunnel of attire. In one hand, she carried a folded baby blue nightgown, a dark green overcoat, and a thick knitted pair of golden wool stockings. In the other were a pair of red slippers. Hermione thought she might salivate just looking at the warm, dry things. Lavender gave a small smile and extended her arms, handing the clothing to Hermione.

"Here, you can get changed over there." She pointed to a small curtained-off square by the door. Hermione nodded and almost bolted into the changing room. As she shed her sopping clothes, she could hear mumbling as the two women talked.

* * *

"Ally, I know the girl is soaking wet and he's exerting his rage through this damn weather, but what are you _thinking_?" Lavender hissed, wringing her hands. "Not only letting her in, but she saw the fire, and now my wardrobe! What are we going to do with her? Yes, yes, I know, we can Obliviate her, but really! We should take more caution, the way we have the Ministry breathing down our necks…"

The old woman didn't seem to be affected by the tirade of the younger. Her expression remained tranquil as she sank down onto a small stool.

"Dearie, really. After the last _escapade_," she said the word with clear distaste, "I really won't make such a mistake again." Her hands began toying with one of the strands of beads that were tied to her skirt. "I saw the girl coming, you know. She's one of us."

Some of the rage-induced flush left Lavender's cheeks, and she also took a seat on a chair. "You saw her coming? It must have been important then."

Ally's sky-colored blue eyes became hard. "More important than you know. She's going to affect all of them. Harrino, Voldemort, Malfoy…But now we mustn't speak of such things. She'll be coming out soon."

They sat in silence for a minute, Ally gazing off into nothingness and Lavender straightening non-existent wrinkles on her dress. Suddenly, Ally turned, looking at Lavender with a fierce expression.

"She's going to affect him, you know. He'll fancy her, oh he will. But he's a still just a boy. Don't let it deter you. If you do what's right, his heart will be in your hands at the end. Just don't be challenging the girl till she's trained, promise me?"

Her mocha-colored skin visibly several shades paler, Lavender started at the Seer with surprise. Ally reached out and gripped her hand. "Promise me?" she said vehemently.

Lavender swallowed, giving a terse "I promise."

* * *

When Hermione came out, she felt much better, although she still shivered a bit. Her hair was starting to curl, and she had combed it a bit with her fingers in front of the dressing room mirror. Her pants, coat, shirt and knapsack were held in one hand, and in the other she held her water-proof boots. They had been a treasure, nicked from the stables just before leaving. She had been astounded that she hadn't been caught.

Ally and Lavender were both sitting in chairs and looking at her as she came out of the room.

"Much better now, isn't it, dearie?" Ally said cheerily.

"Yes. I can't begin to thank you enough." Hermione said, blushing.

"Let me take your clothes," Lavender said. "I'll put them with the laundry." She placed her clothes into Lavender's waiting hands. As she walked away, Hermione turned to Ally.

"Don't mind her, dearie. Let's just go to the fire an' introduce you to the others now, shall we? I'll take a brush, and we can brush your hair by the fire, it'll dry nice and fast." Ally once again tugged her sleeve till they were by the blazing bonfire in the middle of the tent again, and all the curious eyes trained on her. Resigning herself, she realized that these people had already seen her in pants, and an overcoat was considerably less revealing.

She took a deep breath, and sat down gingerly on the pillow Ally said Harrino had brought for her. In front of it was a tray holding a plate of biscuits and a crude mug filled with violently yellow, steaming liquid. Hermione picked it up, wrapping her fingers around the toasty cup, and took at tentative sip. It taste like honey and oranges. Pleasantly surprised, she took a larger sip, and turned to Harriano.

"This is delicious. Thank you," she said, forcing herself to be polite.

He just stared at her with his jewel-like eyes, and then got up and went to sit with a pair of dark-skinned twins and Lavender. She turned back to Ally, her name sounding exactly like the thing Hermione found in her. The woman turned her head and began gently pulling the brush through her locks.

"Those two over there, with the insanely long black hair, those are the Patil twins. From India, you know. Our exotic dancers, a real treasure. The bloke with the red hair is Ronald Weasly, he's stable master. He and Harrino, you've already met him, he's the lion tamer, are real close. Huge, greasy bat over there all alone is Mr. Snape. He's with us selling his tinctures. Those two other fellows with the red hair are the Weasly twins, wonderful clowns, they're talking to Lee, who's also a clown, and Hagrid, our strong-man."

Hermione listened as the woman rattled on, storing this as valuable information for later. The brush made soothing strokes through her drying hair.

"Colin Creevy, he does all the brochures, posters and the like, he's talking to McGonagall. She's the illusionist, you won't believe what she can pull off. Hannah Abbot, Katie Bell, and Cho Chang, they're some of our acrobats. They're talking to the black haired one, Sirius Black, our ringmaster. There's more, but they're not all here now, dearie, and I'm sure you'll get to know them all quickly, won't you?"

Hermione turned to her, unable to stop a sensation of hope from welling up.

"Do you mean," she asked breathlessly, "I can stay with you?"

"Sure you can. Long as you're willing to learn a trade and such." Ally said with a dry look at her pale, lady-like hands.

"Of course I will," Hermione said quickly, clenching her fingers into fists.

Ally nodded thoughtfully. "We'll see who to put you with tomorrow. You're probably tired, dearie. I know where you can sleep. Put on those boots of yours and wait for me by the door."

Hermione did as instructed, and Ally came back carrying a huge water-proof tarp. "Get under this," she said, with a motion of her head to indicate behind her. She did as she was told, lifting her hands above her head to hold it up as they hurried out into the turbulent storm. They walked quickly, and Ally lead her up the steps of a green-blue carvan with a moon painted on the door. She walked inside, and pulled Hermione in after her before slamming the door shut, abandoning the water-proof covering outside.

"Ginevra," Ally said loudly. "I have a visitor for you."

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**This was spontaneous, but I just adore the idea. It's purely for fun, and ANY suggestions are very welcome. Please don't expect regular updates, but the more reviews I get, the more likely it is that the update pace quickens. So if you've read this, leave a review, good or bad, please!**

**In case you haven't realized, Ally is Dumbledore in female fore. Albus=Ally. **


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER DISCLAIMER DISCLAIMER: NO CLAIM. NONE.**

**Enjoy!**

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_"Ginevra," Ally said loudly. "I have a visitor for you."_

A young woman came out of a room at the back of the large caravan. She was slightly taller than Hermione, with ivory skin, large hazel eyes, and a long plait of rusty hair. Her attire was decent; an overcoat similar to Hermione's over her night gown, but her slender countenance still radiated inner strength.

"Good evening, Ally. Who's this?" she asked, a slight furrow appearing on her forehead as her eyes flickered between Ally and Hermione. The hand that was holding a novel gripped it until the knuckles turned white.

"It's nice to meet you, I'm Hermione Granger." She said, giving a slight curtsy. Hermione then realized she had never properly introduced herself to Ally. "Oh! Ally, I'm terribly sorry I-"

"It's all right, dearie. I already knew," she said with a small placating smile, "Ginevra, Miss Granger needs a place to sleep, she was out in the storm, and she has…special circumstances." The redhead's eyebrows rose, as she turned and examined Hermione a bit more thoroughly. The brunette was confused, but decided not to speak as Ally was obviously in charge here. She presumed the circus folk were more than a little eccentric, taking into their jobs and the horribly inappropriate attire she had seen thus far…

"I know you've got ample room."

"Of course I do, Ally. I just don't know if _Miss Granger_ would be willing to share a bed with me. After all…we've just met." Her hazel eyes focused on Hermione's face, flashing with strong emotion.

A blush worked it's way into her face. "Of course I don't mind. Any accommodation would be extremely kind and most welcome." _Really, Hermione, what were you expecting when you ran away from home? _she mentally scolded herself.

"Well then, girls, I'll just leave you to it," Ally said, a soft and comfortable smile on your face, belaying the awkwardness in the air. "Nighty night, see you in the morning," she called as she jaunted out of the door, slamming it behind her.

Ginevera took a long look at her, before sighing. "Take off those boots, I don't need you getting my carpet dirty. And don't call me Ginevra. It's Ginny, or 'Miss Weasly'," she told her visitor wryly.

Hermione took her off her boots, placing the wet, muddy Wellingtons on a mat by the door. "Thank you for letting me stay with you, I'm sorry for any inconvenience."

Ginny waved her hand at her, as if she were physically brushing it away as she placed another log into the small fire. The cozy caravan had become chilly from the door being opened. She sat down on the built in bench in the corner, pointing at a chair across the table. "C'mon, sit down."

"What do you do? I mean for the circus?" Hermione asked shyly.

"I'm a tightrope walker."

"Weasly…is your brother here at the circus as well?" she asked, attempting to maintain polite conversation.

"Three of my brothers, actually." Ginny had a tiny grin on her face, though it didn't seem to be for Hermione, but rather for her equally red-haired siblings. "It can be a nightmare, with all of them being such jokers. A woman has got to defend herself, from some of those stunts they pull for a few laughs." She became critical. "Although, Lady Hermione, I don't suppose you know about that sort of thing."

Her cheeks pink again, Hermione answered. "I had a brother…a half-brother, he's older than me. I never liked him. He was harsh and cold, and even if our father would've let him play pranks on me, I don't think he would've. It must be nice, having siblings you love, that love you back," she said, slightly wistful.

"I see. What exactly has Ally told you about…us?" The furrow reappeared between her brows.

"Told me? Why, nothing. No, that's not true." Ginny tensed. "She told me the names of a few people in the tent, and what they did here at the circus."

"Nothing else, really?"

"No, barely anything, in fact."

"Damn it." Ginny muttered. "Don't let her play the senile old grandmother act past you, she's terribly clever. She's up to something."

"Up to something?" Hermione shifted uncomfortable on her chair. "She didn't say anything, really…But she did offer, she did offer to let me stay here. A more…permanent arrangement, some sort of job."

"Oh, simply wonderful. She's left me to tell you. Me, who has absolutely no tact or experience."

Hermione was becoming slightly more uncomfortable, her companion acting inexplicably odd.

Ginny took a deep breath, steeling herself.

"Has anything ever happened to you…you know, something odd? Something you couldn't quite explain?"

Hermione stared at the woman across from her, mentally going through the list of things. The recently stolen boots, the dead flowers, the wolf. She had a rather large catalogue of strange occurrences.

"Perhaps. Why do you ask?"

"You see…the people here, at the circus. We're not just some crazy bunch of circus-folk, we're different. Different from everyone else, you understand? And Ally has obviously decided that you have the same…anomaly that we have. Otherwise, she'd never let you stay."

Her eyes narrowed. "Anomaly? Are you implying that something is wrong with me?"

"No, no. Of course not. We don't see it that way, but of course there are people that disagree." Her lips pursed.

Hermione ran through the possibilities, her rationale finally ending with an answer. They were insane. All of them. Tomorrow she could grab her clothes from the tent, and steal away in the darkness before dawn.

"Alright, I can tell you don't believe me. I'll just have to show you." Out of the pocket of her overcoat, she pulled a slender piece of wood. The novel she had been holding when Ally and Hermione came knocking at her door lay on the table, face down. She waved the stick in a complex pattern, then tapped the book with it.

"Nannasco."

There was a bird on the table. It was small, smaller than the book had been. It was yellow, with white wingtips and orange cheeks. The crest on it's head opened itself as it hopped around, whistling in curiosity.

Hermione squeaked, temporarily at loss for words.

"We're witches. Witches and wizards, actually. Ally is actually a Seer, not some old Gypsy woman dressed in rags and spouting rubbish about the future. She must've seen you coming, and that's why you're staying here with us. To train, to be able to control your magic, instead of it just bursting out of you when you're upset or in danger."

Her whole face drained of color, she was almost shaking. "Magic? I have magic?"

"Yes, you have magic. You were born with it, it's not something like demonic possession, or an enchantment. You have to be _born _with it, magic is produced; it can't be stolen or given away. A Muggle-born is what we call you. Muggles are the people without the magic, you see. Normal folks, for the most part." Ginny's face was almost void of expression, though sympathy was visible in her hazel eyes.

The little budgie had hopped over toward Hermione's side of the table. It rubbed it's beak and head against her hand resting on the table, making a sound almost akin to purring.

"This is…this is impossible."

Ginny gently patted her arm. "I know it's a lot to absorb. It's why the inside of this caravan is so much larger than the outside, it's why the fire in the tent isn't normal, it's why Lavender has the wardrobe she does. And, just think about all those unexplainable things that happened to you when you were little. It's because you're a witch, your magic isn't controlled yet."

Her fingers were now gently rubbing the bird's head, who's eye were half closed in contentment.

"Could you perhaps show me something else?"

* * *

"It's time to wake up, Hermione. Wake up." Her shoulder was being shaken gently, and she blearily opened her eyes. It took a moment for her sleep-weary brain to function.

"Ginny?"

"Yes, it's me, Ginny. I've got some pastries from Sprout for both of us, although you're welcome to go to the buffet and sit with everyone else if you like. Lavender also gave me back your clothes, all clean and laundered."

Hermione rolled out from under the patchwork quilt, standing up and yawning.

"Lav said you could keep the nightgown and such. C'mon, get dressed, we've got to eat and then take you to Ally so she can figure out who you'll be training with."

Hermione gave her a blank look.

"You know, your job?"

They ate the jam-filled pastries quickly, and Hermione once again donned her green trousers and blue shirt. She braided her hair into two braids and wrapped them around her head. What her mother would say if she could see her now. A feeling of dread filled her as she exited the caravan. Partly because she was walking around in men's clothing in broad daylight, and partly because of the people who would be watching her walk around in men's clothing in broad daylight. Ginny was wearing a very pretty light green dress, and she was slightly jealous. Before they walked out into the ankle-deep mud, she muttered a string of words, pointing her wand at her shoes, calves, and the bottom half of her dress.

"It makes my clothes impervious to water and schmuck," she explained when she noticed Hermione watching. "It's rather useful."

Ginny went outside first, Hermione following bashfully. It was a beautiful day, with a clear blue sky and fluffy white clouds. They got halfway to the tent before a red-headed male stopped them.

"Gin, hey, Ginny!" The man ran across the semicircle created by the caravans, waving his arms.

"Morning, Ron." She turned to Hermione. "Hermione, this is my brother, Ronald Weasly. Ron, this is Hermione. We've got to go and get her to Ally so she can get someone to train with."

"It's nice to make your acquaintance," she said, awkward because she was unable to curtsy in her trousers.

"Likewise," he said. He was very tall, and broad, with tousled red hair and bright blue eyes. His smile was friendly and boyish. "So you're the one Harry was complaining about last night. Don't let it get to you, he's really a great bloke. He'll warm up to you in a bit." As he spoke, his eyes traveled up and down her form, blatantly assessing her.

"Let's go Hermione, I still have to practice," Ginny said.

"Oh, yeah, Gin, I wanted to tell you. Black just confirmed that we're going to the Burrow after Stratford, so we'll be seeing Mum and Dad soon." He began walking back toward the direction he had come from. "I've got to owl them, so I'll see you later, alright?" he shouted over his shoulder. "Nice meeting you," was shouted again, just louder. Hermione's face was bright red, but Ginny didn't seem to notice, she kept walking toward their destination.

They entered the tent. The morning sunshine came through a hole opened up at the top, and there was no evidence of the huge bonfire that had been inside the middle of the ring yesterday. Instead, the ring was now inhabited by four girls on trapezes and ropes, flying through the air above a net stretched out across the entire stage. Ginny led her past them, into the backstage part of the main tent. She could see Lavender's wardrobe, and there were several other doorways covered in curtains. They didn't go through any of them, because Ally was sitting at the far end in a gigantic armchair. There was nothing noticeably different about her, except the scarf covering her head was now purple, and her dress seemed to be a different one in the same style. She opened her closed eyes as they started walking toward her.

"Good morning, dearies. Lovely day, isn't it, now? Ginny, I've trust you've told her everything?"

"Yes," she replied, her expression slightly sour as they stopped in front of the chintz armchair. "She required an awful lot of proof, too." There was a smile in her voice for the latter, she wasn't bitter.

Ally didn't acknowledge it. "So, Hermione, you'll be staying with us?"

"Yes. I understand I'm to train with someone?"

Ally nodded. "Yes, it's a bit like an apprenticeship. They will help you develop your skills, but you will also get instruction from all the others here at the circus. Is that sounding reasonable?"

"It sounds highly educational…"

"Wonderful! Now, dearie, if you'd just give me your hand. We'll do a palm reading and decide who your teacher should be for the first few months."

Nervously, Hermione stuck her hand out. Cool, dry fingers took it, running across her palm and her fingers with feather light touches. Ally pulled her hand up close to her face, muttering a few things before she gave it a slight squeeze and released it.

"I think you'll be best suited to Minne. Minerva McGonnagal. She does illusions for the circus, but specializes in Transfiguration. She'll get you a wand, and you'll assist her with her duties. You'll also get a few hours of teaching from her."

Ginny, who had been quiet, spoke up. "I know McGonnagal doesn't have room in her caravan, Ally. Do you want Hermione to stay with me?"

Hermione was shocked. Perhaps she had been wrong thinking the girl disliked her. She turned and examined her face for clues, but Ginny was look at a beaming Ally.

"Splendid. This is just working out so nicely. Ginny, why don't you go practice, I'll take the girlie to her Professor."

"Bye, Ally, Hermione. I'll see you at lunch." She turned and walked back out into the arena, and Hermione faced Ally.

"Don't be looking like you've swallowed a sack of lemons. Come along, dearie."

The journey back to the cluster of caravans was made, and Ally took her too a respectable red caravan with no-nonsense blue trim. The windows each had a window box of yellow flowers, and a large silver lantern hung by the door. Ally climbed the steps and rapped smartly. A tall woman with brown hair piled on top of her head opened the door. She was wearing rectangular glasses and a stern expression, along with a high-necked navy-blue gown.

"Good morning, Ally. What can I do for you?"

"I've got another apprentice for you, Minnie."

An expression of disbelief crossed her face. "Another apprentice? Merlin's beard, Ally, where did you pick this one up? I just got rid of Ginny last week, now another one has landed in your lap? If I didn't know better, I'd say this was some sort of vendetta," she said, her eyes narrowing.

Hermione was slightly surprised that Ginny had also been chosen to have McGonnagal as a mentor.

"Nonsense. She came all by her lonesome, out of the storm last night, looking for shelter. I could hardly deny the girl, especially since she's one of us. And I could hardly leave her to Snape, seeing as Sprout and Slughorn have both already got one. "

"Oh, _alright._ I'll take her on. No need to make me feel guilty."

"I knew you would, Minnie." Her hand gestured for Hermione to join her on the doorstep. "This is Miss Hermione Granger. I'll leave you two alone."

She walked down the steps, and then turned around. "And Minnie, be a little easy on this one, she's a Muggleborn."

McGonnagal huffed. "She's impossible, I tell you." Her sharp, brown gaze was then directed at Hermione.

"You are to call me Miss McGonnagal, or just McGonnagal. What I tell you is to be done, understood?"

"Yes, ma'm." Hermione was reminded of her German Governess, Margot.

"Don't just stand there, come in, girl."

She followed the older witch inside. It was furnished with serious yet feminine things, and surprisingly homey.

"You're a Muggle-born, correct?"

"Yes, ma'm."

"I presume that whatever you have heard of magic thus far has insinuated that all there is to it is to wave a stick about and say a few words. You will find, Miss Granger, that that is most certainly not the case."

* * *

**Any reviews or suggestions would be wonderful. This is purely for a laugh, and for the fun of the A/U. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Hermione trudged across the campground, the throbbing in her head moving in time with her slow steps.

It had been a grueling week. McGonnagal expected her to help perfect her illusions act, with props, small charms, and a lot of slight-of-hand. After that, there was an hour of instruction in magic. Every Friday she went to the sneering Professor Snape to learn about brewing potions. The ingredients were strange and mostly derived from various magical creatures, so in order to pay him for the supplies; she copied his long and extensive notes from his messy scrawl into her neater script.

Because lunch was eaten outside, on the surrounding fields or on two long picnic tables, freckles began appearing on her nose, and her hair took on a few blonde tones. She sat with Ginny at first, and then Ron joined them, and after the fourth day, a reluctant Harriano as well. When she had called him by his full name, he had grimaced and said. "It's Harry." He didn't speak to her much, although he wasn't very talkative, unlike Ginny's brother. Ron chattered about anything and everything. Circus gossip, wizarding news, and something called 'Quidditch'.

Hermione was used to walking around in trousers now, although she avoided any customers. Ginny had procured two dresses from Lavender for her, as well as another pair of trousers and a jacket. She was dressed far more decently than the Patil twins, she felt, who sometimes walked around nothing but long swathes of exotic cloth draped around their figures, showing arms and a substantial amount of leg as well. The costumes the acrobats like Ginny wore were a bit more covering. The had tight arms, and from the was down the dress was just a multitude of shimmering veils. When they stood still, it was an odd outfit, but when they were flying through the air, it was a symphony of colors and sparkles.

Magic was amazing. As McGonnagal had said, it was much more than waving a wand and saying a few fancy words. There was concentration required, and intent. The results were so amazing that she practiced till her head ached, which was why she was currently in the state she was in. The long grass on the surrounding hills was a very good place to practice, and she had been out late, time had flown. It had been dark for a while. She was halfway to the caravan that she and Ginny shared when she heard a noise like thunder coming from the main tent.

She jumped, slightly scared. But then Hermione reminded herself that she was part of the circus now. _If something is happening, I should be there. _She made her way to the tent with small, quick steps.

As she got closer, she could hear yelling coming from inside. It didn't seem to be more than two people. Feeling reckless, she slipped inside the tent.

Harry was yelling. He looked wild, energy crackling around him. He was tensed, as if ready for a fight, his primal aura twice as potent as it usually was. Rage was evident in every line of his face, his eyes practically burning.

"And I don't give a damn, you hear?"

The person receiving his abuse was slightly taller and quite a bit broader. He was dressed impeccably in a midnight colored suit. His hair was just a few shades darker than his skin, a sunshine colored blonde. He was just as formidable as Harry, anger rolled out of him, seemingly hanging about him in a dark cloud. His anger was of a different sort, more controlled but just as dangerous.

They were locked in a fight, like a feral cat and a hunting dog, neither willing to give in, both wary of the other.

It was rather intimidating.

As soon as she saw them, she was sorely tempted to simply creep out the side door and pretend she had never seen them. _But someone could get hurt!_ It looked like either of them was capable of taking the other in a fight, but she knew they could both be dead or seriously injured by the next morning.

Suddenly, the blonde one caught her standing at the entrance.

"What are you doing here, boy?"

Large grey eyes were set into his pale face, an aristocratic scowl gracing his features as well. Hermione's eyes wavered between the unknown man and Harry, who simply glowered at her.

"You were making an awful lot of noise. I came to see what was happening," she answered primly. "It is close to midnight, you know."

She was satisfied to see his eyes narrow at her obviously feminine voice, and Harry seemed to share that sentiment. Hermione walked through a row of benches, nonchalantly trailing her fingers along one of them. Her heart thudded in her chest at her own audacity, but she was tired of people underestimating her because she wore skirts and had a title. She was just as intelligent as they were. Were she at home, society and her family's expectations would restrict her behavior. But, she was at a circus, and no one was around to disappoint.

Harry watched, now bemused that 'Lady Hermione' would exhibit this kind of behavior.

"As close to midnight as it may be, this really isn't any of your business," the blonde said through clenched teeth.

Harry decided to intervene. "Granger, me and Malfoy were just having a bit of a disagreement. I'm sure we'll be able to handle it."

"You two were handling it quite well, from what I could see," slipped out of her mouth before she could think.

"Again," he said, the muscles in his jaw standing out, "it is none of your business." The manners that were close to beaten into the gently bred were obvious at this point. She was a female he did not know, and thus, he was obligated to be polite.

"I don't know…you two could _hurt_ each other. And then I'd feel responsible," she mused, enjoying needling the man. She and Harry weren't friends, but she was closer to him than she was to this intrusive and overbearing stranger.

"I suggest, Miss-

"Granger."

"Miss Granger, that you do not meddle in things that are not your affairs. You see, you don't have all the necessary details." His voice was harsh and cold, meant to deter the devil himself.

Harry scoffed. "Feeling threatened, Malfoy?"

"More threatened than I feel by you. Who is this impertinent chit?"

Hermione scowled. "Impertinent I may be, deaf and blind not, Mr. Malfoy. And since you are intruding upon the circus of which I am part, I feel that this question is more warranted by me. Mr. Malfoy, who exactly are you and what are you doing here?"

It was already late, and Draco Malfoy had had a long and trying day. "Impossible," he muttered to himself. "It's no wonder these damn people are in a circus, they would've been rejected from society, wizard or Muggle alike."

"I'm leaving, Potter. If you want this cleared up and would enjoy keeping all limbs attached, just go talk to Ally." He turned, his mercurial gaze boring into Hermione. "And you," he growled, "should learn to respect your superiors." Satisfaction swept through him at seeing her face pale, although her eyes remained locked with his, deliberately insolent and fiery.

After he stormed out of the tent, Hermione sat down on one of the benches, and Harry began pacing, deep in thought. Malfoy was here, that could only mean trouble. But Ally was a Seer, she was not doing this on a whim or a fancy. And Granger, who had been full of spunk in the face a Death Eater, and one of the inner circle. Albeit, she did not know it at the time.

"Who was that man?" she asked, staring at the cap she had taken off her head which now lay in her lap.

"That was Draco Malfoy."

Robotically, her hand reached up toward her hair, as Harry sat down on the far side of the bench she occupied. Her hands steadily unpinned the braids from her head, and then finger-brushed her rowan hair into gentle waves before beginning to massage her scalp. Harry sat, weighing his options.

"I could tell you who he is and why he's here, but it's rather complicated." His green eyes studied her face, and she rose up to his unspoken challenge.

"I would like to know, if he is to stay here with us when we move on to York." The circus's next destination was York, and perhaps a few larger villages on the way there.

"Draco Malfoy is the only son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. They are a very old, very rich, very influential wizarding family." Her fingers ran through her curls as she listened raptly, eager to learn about this new universe to which she belonged. "The Malfoy family, though prestigious and all that, but they specialize in the Dark Arts."

"Dark Arts?"

"Forbidden magic. Spells and potions the Ministry of Magic has deemed illegal. Damn nasty. The can't get arrested, though, because they've got money. And connections." A furrow appeared between his brows.

"Why is he here? Why haven't Black or Ally objected?"

"Sirius hates him. The prick is related to his estranged family. And Ally…only does a lot of things because of what she sees. Which must be important, if she's to let the son of Voldemort's right hand man go running around our camp." It was clear that though Sirius Black was ringmaster, Ally held tight the reigns of control over the whole circus.

"Who exactly is Voldemort? Is he He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"Yes. He is a very powerful wizard. Powerful enough to evade the entire Ministry of Magic, and Ally. He thinks…that wizarding society needs to be purified. That all Muggle-borns, like you, need to be killed off. That people like the Malfoy family, or the Blacks, 'Purebloods' are real wizards, that your magic is stolen."

Hermione inhaled sharply.

Harry saw her eyes go wide and her face turn into a face of someone who is hunted. Her hands began shaking, and her teeth bit slowly on her bottom lip.

"But, they say Ally is the only one Voldemort ever feared. You're safe here." Harry squelched the need to comfort her further. She was such a small creature, only reaching to his shoulder, with the innocent face of a child. And it was clear she knew absolutely nothing about the world that she had fallen into out of pure coincidence.

When Harry had first met her, with her Lady-like appearance and her mannars, he had thought that she was perhaps a younger daughter of one of the less prominent Pureblood families, sent here to spy on them by Voldemort. But it was clear, after the first few days, that she came from Muggle society. She regarded their style of dress as vulgar, although she said nothing about it. The men's clothing that she wore seemed to be out of practicality, and had made her flush many times. Her quiet presence and kind manner was easy to see. And now, Malfoy had shown up. The Dark Lord did not need another spy here of she was spying for him. Certainly not one as conspicuous as Malfoy.

A shaky laugh escaped. "You must think me silly, being so afraid."

"No. You seem to be sensible, and I don't think you would be afraid without reason."

Surprised by this insight into her character, she was quiet for a moment.

"And," he said gutturally, his face twisting into an expression of hatred. "If Malfoy touches one hair on your head, I will personally beat him into a pulp." She was part of the circus, after all. A form of distantly related family.

Confident now that he wouldn't harm her, she risked a tentative question. "You two have a history?"

"An unpleasant one."

They sat in silence for a moment, crickets cheeping softly in the backround.

"Do you fancy Ginny?" she asked, aware that she was being excessive in her question asking.

"Why do you ask?"

"No reason. I just was wondering, what the courting process was like here."

Amusement was palpable in his tone. "Courting process?"

"Well, yes. The etiquette and the like."

"I don't think there's a definitive set of rules."

"Rather different than were I come from…"

"Well, you belong here now."

* * *

**I hope you liked it, I'm aware that this chapter is rather short and a bit uninteresting, but it was necessary to the story. Any suggestions for the direction of the story or even small things are appreciated. **

**Any reviews will be virtually cuddled. :3**


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: Nothing belongs to me, 'cept the idea. If anyone deigns to steal it, I will hunt you down, castrate you, and fill your stomach with live centipedes.**

**One thing: In case I haven't made it clear, Hermione has been at the circus for 3 weeks, Draco for 2. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"What ever do you mean, ill?"

Ally rolled a bead in her gnarled fingers. "Minne has caught Salamander Spots. I'm afraid she won't be able to do tomorrow night's show. Or all the shows this week, for that matter."

Frustration and panic fizzled in her veins. "She's ill? Well, we all have magical abilities. Surely there is something we can try?"

"Of course there is a cure." A heavy sigh of relief puffed out. "Snape is brewing a potion, to be administered four times a day, right now. Unfortunately, it takes a while to fully cure the individual."

"Our act? What shall happen to our act!? Oh, Ally, you can't just promise folks an illusionist and then not have one. This is terrible," she ranted, throwing her arms in the air. "What are we to do? I do-"

"Hush, dearie. I've already thought of a solution." Ally perked up, a mischievous twinkle entering her blue eyes. "I've found someone with the abilities to take up the act. Someone who isn't otherwise occupied. You'll have to teach him a bit, but Mr. Malfoy will be her replacement till she's well."

Twin spots of angry color appeared on her pale cheeks. "Malfoy?! You want me to work with him? He thinks I'm lower than the scum on his boots," she scoffed. "I couldn't possibly get anything done with that arrogant, pompous, disgusting princeling. He isn't even able to walk in mud properly. Bah. Man, he claims. I'd be surprised if he even has one manly, or, better yet, good quality. The notion of us working together is ludicrous!"

"As much as I share that last sentiment, Granger, I do realize who's in charge here," came a cultured drawl.

"And I realize the impossible when I hear it," she spat furiously in return.

"Please, Ally," she entreated, "You must realize that neither of us want to do this. Neither of us are even vaguely capable of doing this."

"Psh, nonsense, child. You are both very capable, magically."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but a unexpectedly sharp look from Ally silenced her. Malfoy stood by the close to them, unusually quiet.

"The both of you have been traveling with this circus for close to two weeks now. I have demanded almost nothing in return from you, Miss Granger. And Mr. Malfoy, your contributions now would be most helpful. However, this isn't a request. This is an order. Much of our income relies on having a good magician act. No one else is currently free to do take it on, Mr. Malfoy; and as Minne's pupil, you are obligated to, Miss Granger. Now, if I hear so much of a peep out of the both of you, Merlin help you."

"I understand, Ally," she said bowing her head. "I'll do this with him."

She nodded amicably, her previous threatening tone disappearing. "I have faith in you, dearie. Faith in you both. Now get working, this won't just happen by it's lonesome." Ally walked away from the area behind Ginny's caravan, leaving Draco and Hermione alone.

She glared at him, he responded with an icy cool gaze back as he leaned against the caravan.

"I can not believe she is making us do this together. We're like oil and water."

He nodded. "Day and night."

"Fish and fowl."

"Hippogriffs and House Elves."

"Excuse me, what?"

"Oh, I forgot, Muggleborn."

Her eyes narrowed. "Meet me on in the forest on the West after lunch. Bring your wand. And, please attempt to be civil?" She gave him a cold smile before turning on her heel and flouncing off.

He was treated to the rather delectable sight of her retreating bottom in a pair of men's trousers that were probably tighter than she thought them to be.

_This has the potential to be nice….or infuriating, _he thought.

* * *

"Ginny! Ginny, can I speak with you?"

Ginny and the acrobats were practicing in the main tent, as they did every morning. Currently, the waif-like red-head was doing a delicate dance on the tightrope that involved a twirling umbrella, as well as leaps and a flip or two.

"Of course," came floating down from her perch, followed by a "One moment." She quickly made her way to the tall pole that supported her tightrope. Swiftly, she hooked the umbrella handle in the crook of her arm. Then she wrapped her limbs around the pole and slid down.

Hermione smiled at the slightly childish display before her reason for coming to see her closest friend brought another scowl to her face.

"Something's got your knickers in a twist, eh, Mione?" Ginny asked, her face slightly pink and shiny due to her exertion.

"McGonnagal has come down with Salamander Spots."

"Salamander Spots? Oh, that's terrible. Those take more than a week to heal…" Comprehension dawned on her face. "Oh, no, what about your act? What will we do? And we're full show right now, there's no one that can step in."

"Unfortunately," she nearly growled, "Malfoy just happened to be without anything to amuse him."

"Malfoy?" Ginny giggled. "You and Malfoy? This is rich."

"Ginny this isn't funny. What am I to do? I've been here for less than two weeks, and he's an insufferable prat! I have to perfect the show with him today."

"Calm down, Hermione. Yes, you've been here for barely two weeks, but everyone knows that you're brilliant." She looked thoughtful. "Prat he may be, but you can't deny how gloriously handsome he is."

"Unfortunately, his inner hideousness distracts from the pretty package."

She sighed. "Ah, pity. But still! What are you going to wear? Will you finally wear that lovely blue dress Lavender made for you? You shouldn't go tramping about in trousers around him; he'll make some stupid comments."

"The trousers are very practical," Hermione said haughtily.

"Yes, yes. I agree. But still. You know that won't matter to him, this just gives him less reason to look down on you. And besides, you have every other day to wear trousers. Wearing the dress will make Lav so happy," Ginny wheedled.

"Alright, alright. I'll wear it. But only if you stop your whining."

"Splendid!" Ginny said, grinning enthusiastically.

Hermione stood underneath the dark green canopy of leaves at the edge of the emerald sea. She pulled her shawl more tightly around her shoulders. Ginny had poured her into the robin's egg blue dress, braided her hair with matching ribbon, loaned her a shawl, and then helped her levitate some of the equipment into the forest they were camped by in York before wishing her good luck and smiling cheekily.

Sparse minutes later, Draco Malfoy apparated in front of her with a small pop.

"There you are," she said, disappointing him by not flinching. "Come along, we'll get started." She began walking towards one of the apparatuses that McGonnagal used in her act.

He strolled after her lazily. "Now, correct me if I'm wrong, Granger," he drawled, deliberately addressing her like a man. "But you just joined the circus a few weeks ago, like you said in Ally's tent."

"Yes," she sniffed. "That certainly gives me more experience with what we're doing than you. I actually have to work."

He smiled, baring his teeth without good-natured amusement. "Ahh, but you're a Mud-Muggleborn, correct?"

"Yes, we've established this," she agreed again, quietly.

"Yes. Unlike some Muggle trick, this….show requires actual magic. I've had tutoring since the age of seven, Granger. I really don't-"

"I know, Malfoy!" she exploded. "I know I'm a Muggleborn! I know I can't possibly contend with the people here, with _you_," she spat. "I know I've just started learning magic, I don't need a knucklehead like you to remind me of the fact. However, I do need to remind you that we're supposed to be working together. That we have a bloody twenty minute act to organize today. That certainly isn't going to be helped by you being high and mighty. There is a reason I'm acting as the assistant, Malfoy. I do not need to be reminded that you are currently more accomplished than me in this field, as much joy as it may bring you to pick on a circus wench without your 'pure blood'. Now, I believe that both of us would be leaving if we couldn't get this act together, so unless you want Ally to revoke your room and board; you must have a phenomenal reason for staying here, from what I've heard about you, then you will cooperate with me and give a lady and colleague the respect she is due!"

He seemed unruffled by her outburst. "That was an impressive rant, Granger," he said, his eyes drilling into her. His stride was like that of some great jungle cat, as he came closer to her threateningly. The tone of voice he used was frighteningly friendly and soft, and she inadvertently took a step away from the advancing predator.

"However entitled you think yourself to be, Miss Granger, I would like to remind you as well that we are supposed to be working together, and the tangent you just went off on about your pride and such is really quite irrelevant to the duty that Ally has given us. I would also like to give you another piece of advice. As a simple Muggleborn, I cannot imagine you terribly educated about the ways of the wizarding world. I'm sure you will have heard whispers about me by now. Things such as Death Eater, and Voldemort. I will tell you that you should not take those things lightly, and perhaps…further your education regarding Magical politics."

He had been loping toward her as he spoke, and she had been hesitantly retreating. Inevitably, since they were in a forest, her back hit a tree, and she was trapped. He took another few steps closer, improperly close now, and she sucked in a breath. She knew that male-female protocol was not as rigid in the Wizarding world, but the man was close enough to kiss her. When his hands landed on either side of her head and he leaned down to her smaller height, she almost thought he would. A strange sort of fear shimmered through her, nervousness and terror mixed with a tenacious dose of anticipation.

The blonde head leaned in closer, and the heaving of her chest increased in tempo. "And always remember, Miss Granger. You are the woman in this situation. And the less magically adept." Warm breath blew over her ear, and goosebumps erupted as she could feel his heavy heat through his clothing; he was almost pressed against her. "Do not," he almost hissed, "push me."

Understanding and apprehension were her prevalent emotions. Though she balked at his threat, she did not have the ammunition or power to fight him off. Though, she would later examine, there was a part of her that didn't want to. This man may appear to be a lot of things; controlled, commanding, aristocratic, but something about him was close to an edge. Even without knowing that he was had the wizard equivalent of good breeding and upbringing, he did not strike her as the type of man who often threatened women; he had been polite to her their entire short, strained acquaintance. This was an edge she didn't want to tip him over.

Draco was starting to breathe more quickly. Not only out of the surprising rage the little creature had roused in him, but also because he was almost pressed flush against her very soft, very feminine body as a by product of his blind anger. At his height, he could almost look down the bodice of the rather delicate blue gown she wore, and the scent of sandalwood and woman wafting up from her was not helping his state of mind, or arousal.

He had meant to scare the sassy woman-child, he did not regard Mudbloods as equals. As he was going to be forced to work with one, he preferred that they were scared and obeyed his wishes without question. That would make the partnership more bearable, he couldn't have the prideful little thing questioning him and hurling veiled insults at his person at every twist and turn. Her courage and sharp tongue had mostly amused him, but also garnered a glimmer of respect.

He hadn't been able to see her face, her head had been looking at the ground, almost submissive to him. This placated his fury a tiny bit, but now she tentatively looked up to the man who held her prisoner against a trunk with his body as a cage. Her lips were slightly parted and an indignant blush had worked it's way across her cheekbones. Large hazel eyes locked with steely grey ones.

It felt like lightening ripped through his body, it was almost painful, but it was also a feeling of pure joy.

And then Draco Malfoy collapsed.

* * *

**I know this chappie seems a bit short, but in truth, it's actually because all the paragraphs are pretty long. I'm not completely sure about some semi-colon use in this, if you see any mistakes, feel free to correct me.**

**Reviews are very welcome!  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER: I AM NOT GETTING MOOLA FOR THIS. TIS ILLEGAL**

**Enjoy!  
**

* * *

Draco blinked hazily. Sunlight was streaming over him, and it was almost painful in against his sleep-dilated eyes. Confused thoughts swirled around his head, questioning his location and how he came to be there. Something prodded his shoulder, and he turned his head to look at a person he recognized as Ally after a few seconds of thought.

"So. You're awake," she said cheerily.

"Not completely," he grumbled back. His mind was still laced with sleep, but there was also a certain heaviness about it. It was likely that a spectacular headache would be coming soon. Draco squinted at the gypsy woman.

"How long have I been unconscious?"

"Almost two hours." This surprised him, he felt like he'd been sleeping for days.

"What happened?"

She ignored him, pouring a mug of water from flowery pitcher and holding it in front of him. He took it, as she expected. As he drank, he looked around.

"This is your trailer?"

"Yes. Don't be getting any ideas."

He smiled, although it was a reminiscent of a grimace. After he finished drinking, he sat up. He had been placed on a top of the quilts covering a double bed that was situated directly under a window. Everything in the room was painted bright and joyous colors, but for some reason none of them clashed and a garish effect was avoided. There was a sink in the corner, as well as a washbasin. Ally sat on a stool at his side, looking intense, a rather large difference from her usually serene countenance.

"So, Mister Malfoy, how long have you known your family had Veela blood?"

A scowl overtook his features fast as lightening. "How did you know that? That is the best-kept secret of the Malfoy family. Who has told you?" he asked harshly.

She merely raised an eyebrow, unperturbed by his anger. "No one has told me. I simply recognized your symptoms."

"Symptoms?"

"Yes. Your body went into hibernation to prepare itself. It's something Veelas do after finding their…mates."

Any color in his pale face immediately vanished.

"Mates?" he whispered hoarsely.

"Mates. After a Veela finds their mate their body goes into an unconscious state in which the raw Veela magic begins to work changes that enhance your body so that it can protect and care for it's mate to the best of it's abilities. In someone like you, with dominant Veela genes, the same change takes place."

"Merlin and Morgana," he breathed. "You're telling me…that that tempestuous and pompous Mudbloodis my destined…_soul mate_?"

Her blue eyes hardened and her usually listless tone became stern. "Yes. And I would advise you not to speak of her that way. She may be ignorant of it's meaning, but others are not. And I can tell you that there will come a time when you require her simply to sustain life. It would be wise of you not to do things that will cause people to get in your way at this time."

He groaned. "Merlin's knickers. This is the worst damn timing of any bloody thing ever."

"I realize that with your current status as a double-agent, this may be a minor inconvenience."

He was incredulous. "Inconvenient? You think that this is merely a minor inconvenience? You said yourself what the mating process does to people. I've seen it happen. I will need her like I need food and water. My body will be physically incapable of being away from her for more than a few days. You call me dependent like a newborn on the thing Voldemort is trying to exterminate a minor inconvenience?"

She sighed, and her agelessness suddenly slipped away. He saw how old she really was, what she had endured, and most of all, what she had learned. A twinge of regret dared show itself, but he swiftly squashed it. This was about his life. Everything he had every been taught and believed was at stake.

Draco Malfoy had never thought he would find his mate. He was aware that his blood was less pure than the public believed, that his great-grandmother on his father's side had been a Veela. It had been mentioned to him several times in utter secrecy. It had been explained that he was in no danger of revealing this, unless he stumbled upon the girl that was his mate. The Veela in him would recognize her, and wake from dormancy. He had been reassured that this was very unlikely, there were millions of people on the planet, and only one of them would appeal to the Veela in such a way. At the time, it had disturbed him profoundly that he may have no choice at all in who he would be obligated to spend forever with. Now it was like all his worst nightmares had come to life.

"I believe that the mating process will be slower than the kind that happens with Veelas, since you are only part Veela. And because you and Miss Granger are hardly on friendly terms, both of you will be resisting the pull."

"How long?"

"How long have you got till the process is complete? I would estimate…anywhere from six months to a year." She could see the thoughts flitting about behind his silver eyes as his hand came up to run through his platinum hair. She worried for the boy, much the same way she worried for Harriano. To have to endure so much at such a young age.

He turned to her abruptly, his face back to his cold and impartial mask. "You will tell no one," he barked. "Not her, not a soul."

Looking at him solemnly, she slowly nodded.

He nodded in return, and made to stand up. A wizened hand landed on his knee in warning. "Be careful. You may feel a bit strange." She pulled her hand back, and he stood up, straightening his long frame unhurriedly. There was an odd throbbing on his back and an awkward sensation in his head. He noticed he was only wearing his shirt, his jacket lay folded on the bed. He stretched, reaching his arms high above his head. As he moved, the ache increased and he groaned softly.

The old woman's cool fingers touched his back. "Let me see," she demanded.

Without thinking, he took of his shirt. He felt her tracing something on his back. "There is a mirror in the main room, Malfoy. Go look in it."

Slightly unsettled but unwilling to show it, he went to the living room, Ally trailing behind. There was indeed a human-sized mirror with ornate frame a jagged crack running through half of it. He twisted himself so his back was visible, catching half a glimpse of what appeared to be runes in a foreign language. The jet black and gold tattoo ran from the middle of his right shoulder blade to mid-back. After a moment of shock, he cursed vehemently in French.

"I quite agree, Mister Malfoy."

* * *

Hermione dashed back to her the caravan she shared with Ginny. It had become like a second home, and she did not bother rapping on the door before entering. A sigh escaped her after she closed the door. After resting for a by leaning against the wall, she straightened out and called for her friend.

"Ginny? Gin, are you home?"

"Yes. Come here, 'Mione. I've got a surprise for you!" Ginny shouted with barely contained excitement.

Slowly and slightly wary, Hermione walked in the direction of Ginny's room in the caravan. She was suitably shocked when there was a new door next to Ginny's. The door was painted a soft green, and a few seconds after she had seen it, her friend leaped out from behind.

"Surprise!" she said, grinning ecstatically.

"What is this?"

"This," she proclaimed dramatically, "is your new room."

"My room?" she asked warily.

"Yes," Ginny said as she tugged her inside.

It was as large as Ginny's room. In a the corner stood a brass double bed with brightly colored patchwork quilts and afghans heaped upon it. Under the round window, there was a washbasin. The other corner of the room was occupied by a rickety red wardrobe with large blue knobs and a dark brown armchair.

"This is…so thoughtful," Hermione said, tears coming to her eyes. She turned around and threw her arms around her friend.

"You're welcome," Ginny laughed. "Me and the twins made it for you this morning." She pulled Hermione to sit down on her new bed. "But why are you back so early? I didn't expect you for another few hours at least…"

Hermione colored. Ginny squealed again. "Merlin, Hermione," she breathed. "What happened?"

She sniffed. "Well…." Ginny squealed again, and Hermione scowled. "Don't make such a fuss, Gin. He didn't steal a kiss or anything remotely like that."

The redhead's face fell slightly, but she brightened again. "Well, something happened, and I demand that you tell me what!"

She started recounting that afternoon's events, slightly unsure. "We were just starting, you know. And he was acting so…so arrogant! He infuriated me," she said vehemently. "I sort of exploded on him. After that, something happened to him. I think I struck a nerve, and he got all quiet and threatening. Then he started walking toward me, and I was walking away from him, and somehow I ended up against a tree. And he was whispering in my ear for me to be careful…he was frightening, almost unstable." She looked up at Ginny, wringing her fingers. "And then…he just collapsed."

Even Ginny did not know what to make of this story as she sat opposite Hermione, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"And then…I ran and got Ally. She said he's going to be all right and she'll take care of him, and I should come back in an two hours to resume practice. I believe she took him to her trailer. And then I came here…"

"That is strange…"

"Yes."

Ginny then brushed it off, her excitement about Hermione's new living quarters setting back in. "Ah, well. We'll get all your things from the trunk in the kitchen and set them up, and then we'll go see what's happened to him, alright?"

Hermione nodded in agreement, and they meandered to the kitchen. Ginny took out her other dress from the trunk, as well as her male suits, and handed them to her. She took out her knapsack, and was about to hand it to Hermione as well. It slipped out of her fingers, heavier than it looked.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Here I'll go get it…" she trailed off in confusion. Hermione could only stand in silence.

Ginny stared at the large silver and black orb that had rolled out of her bag, her brows furrowing.

"Hermione…what is that?"

* * *

**Another cliffie. Sorry. **

**Review, pretty please? I've tried to be original and such. STILL, ANY IDEAS ARE WELCOME.**

**Tonks will be making an appearance, soon. :D  
**


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